Page 11

11

T ess

Friday: Wedding minus 8 days

S omebody bought the dog collar.

I made it to work on time after only a few hours of sleep, because first I had to explain to Jack why I’d invited a flirtatious troll to stay in our backyard with only one week before the wedding, and then I had to find the tent and get it set up.

Jack offered to help, but I thought it was better … not.

He and Braumsh didn’t like each other much, but the troll agreed when I asked him to be nice to Jack while he stayed with us.

The oddest thing of all?

My cat loved him. She never likes strangers, especially male strangers. However, not only did she come out to meet him, but she let him pick her up! And pet her!

She even slept in the tent with him.

“Maybe because he smells like fish,” Jack said darkly, after I got Braumsh all set up, offered him food (he declined), and offered him beer (he accepted).

Jack and I spent some time discussing his belief that he had to be the one to accept the hand-to-hand challenge, but I couldn’t talk him out of it, so I finally let it go. Uncle Mike called, and he was equally determined to handle the chess challenge, so I threw my hands in the air at the stubbornness of my family and soon-to-be family.

“If they hurt you right before the wedding, there will be trouble,” I said grimly, yanking open a drawer to pull out my favorite summer pajamas.

“It’s okay if they hurt me after the wedding?” Jack gave me a wicked grin and gently took my pajamas out of my hands. “You won’t be needing those.”

Turns out I didn’t.

But today, I was paying for the lack of sleep with a fuzzy brain. So, when three of my customers got into a bidding war over the dog collar, it was Eleanor who was quick enough to turn it into an auction.

By the end, I cleared two hundred dollars on the collar. This was great, but I kept cautioning them when they bid: “Mostly, they’re only thinking about bacon.”

They didn’t care. I got the money, and a very sweet old man was on his way home to find out what his beloved Schnauzer had to say.

(It was probably something about bacon.)

When Jack wandered in an hour later, carrying a bakery bag, he looked happy and well-rested, which was annoying.

“How do you look so good when we didn’t get any sleep?”

He walked over, swept me into a one-armed hug, and then kissed me.

“Okay, sure, but what’s up?” I asked when I could think again.

“Guess who in Dead End is good with swords for this leg of the Trials?” He grinned at me and Eleanor.

“You?” she guessed.

“Nope. Not even a little. I usually use claws, or a gun in a pinch,” he said, putting the bag on the counter. “Donuts from Mellie’s.”

“One of the swamp commandos?”

Jack laughed. “Not a lot of swordplay in the Special Forces these days. No, guess closer to home.”

“Carlos!”

“Exactly.”

My neighbor, the vampire, Carlos Gonzalez, was Susan’s brother, so he was thirty-something, not hundreds of years old like some vampires. But he’d had to fight a lot of duels on his way up the ranks in the Vampire Council, so he’d had to learn old-style methods of fighting.

Like swords.

Which was great for us.

“And all these Trials are at midnight, so he doesn’t have to worry about sunshine,” Eleanor said. She hadn’t been thrilled when her son had briefly dated Carlos, but it hadn’t lasted long. Dave had decided he wanted someone more stable in his and his son’s life than a politically inclined vampire, no matter how charming and totally hot Carlos was.

“Do you think he’ll do it?”

“He already said he would,” Jack said. “Susan asked him last night, when he got back to town from his latest business trip.”

“And Mike will play chess?” Eleanor whistled. “They’d better bring their best. Mike could have been a chess grandmaster, if he’d ever agreed to go to those European tournaments.”

“I didn’t know that!” All I knew about Uncle Mike and chess was that he’d tried to teach me when I was a kid, but I’d much preferred riding the tractor and working with the animals. Even changing the oil on our old trucks. Now, I wished I’d paid attention and gotten good, so I could take on this challenge instead of him.

“If anybody hurts him?—”

“I doubt it will be a cutthroat game of chess, Tess,” Jack said dryly. “If anybody is in danger, it’s Carlos. Hand-to-hand means a few broken bones, at most. But swords? That can get real bad, real quick.”

“A few broken bones?” I realized my voice had gone a few octaves into squeaky territory when Jack winced. “Wait. Are you allowed to turn into a tiger?”

Jack bared his teeth in an almost-feral grin. “Nobody said I couldn’t.”

After that, we dealt with an unexpected rush in the shop. Everybody in Dead End suddenly needed to pawn something or shop, it seemed like. It took me a good hour to realize that all these people were just stopping by to offer their support, thanks, and advice.

Well, not all of them.

Some of them were there to offer me their wedding dresses.

The hours until midnight lasted a very, very long time.